


You Are Mortal

by MidnightBlackCat



Category: (My) Immortal: The Web Series, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Original Work
Genre: Blythe is Put Through So Much, F/M, Gen, Hufflepuff, I Try to Make Sense of Tara Gilesbie's Writing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, My Immortal Rewrite, Ravenclaw, Time Loop, Time Travel, Underage Drinking, Why Did I Write This?, outside pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2019-11-01 21:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 15,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17875529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightBlackCat/pseuds/MidnightBlackCat
Summary: A ReWrite of My Immortal told from the point of view of a Hufflepuff named Blythe. Each Diary entry lines up with a chapter of the original. There is no fixing of plot inconsistencies, and some dialogue is taken directly from My Immortal.There is something wrong at Hogwarts, it's affecting both students and teacher, and Blythe is determined to figure out what, with the help of her friends. It doesn't take long to figure out that at the center of all of this change is one Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. Blythe is determined to uncover the truth behind all of it. Why is everyone a vampire who was kidnapped at birth? What caused the teachers to change personality so much? Why does McGonagall teach Care of Magical Creatures?





	1. Chapter 1

Dear Diary,  
Hello.  
I’m not really sure I’m going to start this, but I need to. I can’t keep what’s happening to myself. There’s something wrong with my school.  
There’s something seriously wrong with it.  
For your information, the school I go to has never been ordinary, but it has also never been this odd, nor this absurd. I’m not sure exactly how it happened, everything has been a mess and a blur. So I will tell you what I know.  
My name is Blythe. I’m sixteen years old. I’m a Badger, I stand at only 147 centimeters, a height which, combined with the fact that I’ve kept tarantulas since I was nine, has led Darcy, Leighton, and Harper to call me Bitsy. My hair, something I’ve taken pride in since I was young, a dark shade between orange and red, often done up in milkmaid plaits, if only that it can’t get in the way while I work. Darcy, tall and hardworking, a raven in both hair color and in sorting, with eternal stains on her hands and fingers. Harper, Darcy’s companion in the tower of ravens, his glasses can never really stay on his face, and his hands often wind up tugging at sandy hair, with smudges of charcoal often found accompanying the freckles on his face. Leighton is a badger, much like me, but unlike me, he’s far taller. To be fair, the boy is 188 centimeters tall, and with his lanky frame, when he stands up straight his height is intimidating, but, he has a tendency to slouch.  
But some people have gone through serious changes. Namely Gryffindors Harry Potter, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom. None of them go by their name’s anymore. Every one of them has changed houses. And somehow, all of them are vampires who were “kidnapped at birth” and have now become “goths” and switched over to Slytherin. Draco Malfoy has changed as well, but his name hasn’t changed.  
At the center of it all is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way. She’s the reason that Harry is now Vampire, that Ron is Diablo, that Ginny is Darkness, Neville is Dracula and Hermione is B’loody Mary.  
All of them are vampires.  
Every last one of them.  
And they seem to flock to Miss Way like a bunch of Thralls.  
Hell, half of the school seems to be a vampire. And that wouldn’t be a problem. That wouldn’t be a problem at all if it wasn’t for the fact that a large portion of them seem to have decided that us badgers are nothing but losers, nerds, and dweebs and that we are, therefore, just blood bags.  
So that brings us to this morning. This morning started as any mornings this year had tended to start, with Leighton and I eating our breakfast, turned around on the benches, away from the table, talking with Darcy and Harper. That was ruined when a boy, one of the seventh years, a snake with real fangs, grabbed me off the bench. He hoisted me into the air, my feet suspended above the floor of the dining hall before dull teeth tore into my neck. This wasn’t a new experience, but that didn’t mean that the pain was any more tolerable. I was helpless to stop the boy as he lapped at the profusely bleeding wound, an action which had my recently eaten breakfast attempting to make a reappearance. The ceiling above was dreary, a mix of snow and rain.  
“Put her down, you absolute arse,” Darcy sneered, “you got your fill from her yesterday, let Bits heal.” The vampire dropped me to the floor, and Harper was quick to press a rust-colored handkerchief to my neck, the cloth having been soaked in blood many times over. The boy stormed off, leaving the four of us, in the great hall.  
The rest of the morning was fairly average. I had spent a fair amount of time in the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey having provided me with a bed to rest in and a full meal to help recover from blood loss. As a nurse, she was very well prepared for students suffering from blood loss due to the large number of vampires in the school.  
In any normal school, missing all morning would have resulted in some loss of academic knowledge. But the teachers here are the lowest of the low, save for McGonagall, and missing a class would probably teach you more than actually being there.  
Hence why the four of us spend most of our afternoons homeschooling ourselves, reading books on subjects covered in muggle schools so as not be left behind on education.  
After lunch, Harper suggested that we take a small walk outside, for whatever reason. A decision that had me scrounging for every scarf I own and the umbrella that had rolled under my bed last night.  
The snow and rain with thick and the wind was harsh. Through the weather I could see her, wearing nothing but a corset and miniskirt instead of her uniform. Miss Way. I couldn’t tell if her skin with pale from the sheer light tone of her foundation or if the low temperature was leeching the colour out of her skin. Darcy had furrowed her brows and leaned forwards, hands on her hips and distaste clear on her face.  
“How is she not freezing?” Leighton asked.  
“I dunno,” Harper answered, “but there is no way that she is comfortable. Do you think that she wants a scarf or jacket or something?”  
I could see that Darcy wanted to respond, but she stopped when Miss Way raised both arms and flipped us off, giving us the bird in each hand.  
“You know what, nevermind,” Harper told us with a shrug, turning back towards the castle, “let’s get some Cocoa. Mum mailed me a copy of that book on calculus and I’ve got some graph paper, so we could probably learn something more useful than the garbage that Snape ‘teaches’ us.” Harper gave air quotes over the word “teaches.”  
Blythe B. Here with Her Scarf Staying Warm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter lengths are going to be wildly inconsistent due to the fact that My Immortal has varying chapter lengths, and not every chapter has very much stuff happening in the source material


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Diary,  
There is a conspiracy. This whole thing is all just some big conspiracy.  
This morning, Care of Magical Creatures was canceled due to the snow and rain, so Harper, Leighton, Darcy and I took shelter in the Library. First, we tackled the issue of vampires. And that was a mess.   
We all know what vampires are supposed to be. Bloodsucking creatures of the night which can’t go out in the sun, are weak to crosses, stakes, and garlic. Or at least, that’s what the textbook says. However, what we’ve learned from Potter, Granger, Longbottom, the Weasleys, and Miss Way, it’s that that’s not true.   
Unless, of course, most people expect Vampires to be normal people save for their penchant for putting blood in their Count Chocula and for feeding off of us badgers. As well as the whole goth, emo thing that they have going on. Because apparently being goth and being a vampire are two signs of the same coin.  
Second issue: our school has a uniform. An actual, bonafide uniform. It’s a rather nice uniform, too. But Miss Way and all of her Thralls seem to shop at the American retail store Hot Topic, and only there. Which is odd. Seeing as it’s an American retail store. And we’re in Scotland. Unless most seventeen-year-old, vampire, witches normally make trips across the ocean to America just to buy a rubbish leather corset, there’s something fishy and not quite right about Miss Way and her Thralls.  
Third Issues: the teachers don’t seem to teach the same classes as they did in my first year. For example, Professor Trelawny seems to sometimes go by the last name Sinistra, who actually teaches Astronomy, which happens to be Harper’s favorite class. Snape still teaches Potions, so at least that hasn’t changed. However, Professor McGonagall has moved from teaching transfiguration to teaching Care of Magical Creatures, something that doesn’t seem to fit her at all. She really doesn’t seem happy about her new teaching position, but Darcy,   
Harper, Leighton and I, do go for her to learn Transfiguration on her own time, seeing as Transfiguration class has vanished into thin air along with Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms. Speaking of Transfiguration, for some reason, Lupin reaches Advanced Biology, where we’re being taught how to transfigure pentagrams into other things. So really, it’s a goth Transfiguration taught by a former DADA professor.  
Fourth Issue: there’s a word of a Good Charlotte Concert in Hogsmeade tonight. My first issue with this is that there aren’t normally concerts or concert venues in Hogsmeade. My second issue with that is that from the minimal research I’ve done I’ve learned that Good Charlotte is an American Muggle band, so what would they be doing in wizarding Scotland performing in a town that caters almost exclusively to a school with maybe 300 students total. It’s not a good venue choice. It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense.   
Also, why has it been raining and snowing for the last five days. I know it’s Scotland, but there hasn’t been a moment free of slushy downfall in sixty hours. Which of course has Miss Way over the bloody moon despite her tendency to wear the bare minimum amount of clothing, which can not be warm.  
So yeah, now you know why my friends and I do our learning on our own time with the help of books, actual competent teachers like McGonagall, and a bunch of books on homeschooling your kids. It’s because this school is involved in something bigger. This is just the tip of the iceberg, I’m sure of it.  
Blythe B. Up to Her Neck In Bull Shite


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Diary,  
I went to a Good Charlotte Concert. I didn’t like it. To be fair, it was entirely for research purposes. I’m more of a fan of classic rock, but this was such an out-of-nowhere event that I had to go. Leighton took me, mostly because with his height, he could give me a piggy back ride and I could get better surveillance. That’s one of the perks of being friends with someone who’s height rivals that of the Eiffel Tower.   
Unsurprisingly, Miss Way and her boy-toy were there. They arrived in a flying car, which is odd in-and-of itself, seeing as flying cars are heavily regulated by the ministry. Then there was the smoking and the snorting of cocaine as they flew in. They had exited the car high off their arses looking like they had been decked in the jaw by a bag of flour.  
The music was loud, and the small crowd of, perhaps, twenty people total were happily bouncing to the beat with a faraway look on their face, an invisible crowd forcing them to bounce closer and closer to each other.  
I watched as they began to order beer after beer after beer.   
Mixing narcotics and Alcohol honestly couldn’t be good for you, even if you’re a vampire.  
“Hey, Leigh,” I called down.  
“Yeah, Bits?”  
“Do you have your mirror? I need to ask either Darcy or Harper to look up the effects of mixing drugs and alcohol.”  
A few years back we had gotten a set of mirrors, charmed to allow for communication similar to a video call. Leighton and I kept one and Darcy and Harper kept the other. One in each house.   
“What drug? You know what- nevermind, Darcy says it’s pretty bad no matter what drug it is,” Leighton told me.  
“What should I be looking for?”  
“Uhh... Death, coma, death, respiratory and cardiac depression, sucky coordination, seizures, overdose, death,” Leighton relayed.  
“....great… tell Darcy thanks.”   
As the concert went on, the two of us watched Miss Way and boy toy drink more and more. It was probably the dehydration. She should have switched to water. But apparently, vampires have a constitution that can rival Iron Mike, and that man did shots of antifreeze, seeing as Miss Way just kept of bouncing, even as she stumbled and faltered.  
And they were planning on driving back to the castle. That was a recipe and a half for disaster.  
As the concert came to a close, it was clear that Miss Way and her boy toy were far from the right state of mind. The two of them asked for autographs with slurred voices before climbing back into their car, pressed up against each other the entire way.  
“Considering the fact that the two of them could probably use a visit to the nurse, we should follow after the car, right?” Leighton asked, setting me down on the ground.  
“Yeah. As much as I dislike her, I wouldn’t want Miss Way to crash and die or to slip into a coma,” I had answered. And in a series of events that I now regret, we went after them.  
Blythe B. Still Dealing with The After Effects of Loud Music


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Diary, again,  
Sorry, I needed to take some sort of a break before I continue telling you about what happened tonight.  
I’m currently nursing a massive mug of tea in an attempt to cope with the things that I have witnessed. However, I am glad that I did not suffer this alone. Because now I get to know that at least Leighton shares pain, and even if Darcy and Harper weren’t there, they sure as hell have been informed and they feel my pain as well.   
So Leighton and I followed the car, out of concern that Miss Way and her boy toy would either fall into a coma or die. First near heart attack came when the car began to veer. Gut instinct told me that they were just going to ram into the ground and probably end up nearly dead.   
Much to my chagrin, they instead flew into the forbidden forest. Miss Way tumbled out of the vehicle after her boy toy. He looked high and horny, whereas she looked high and pissed about the fact that they were in the forbidden forest.  
“What the fucking hell?” she shouted angrily, storming up to him, fists clenched at her side. They stood face to face.  
“Ebony?” he asked, a smirk on his face,  
“What?” she demanded. The only warning was the unclenching of her fists and the scowl melting off of her face.  
The two began to kiss, which more resembled two leeches attempting to devour each other. Miss Way had been spun around by her boy toy and was pressed up against a tree. All I could hope was that Leighton and I weren’t noticed. Miss Way’s boy toy reached for the corset lacing on her minidress and began to untie it.   
Luckily that was all that I saw before Leighton covered my eyes with his hand. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop me from hearing the obscene moans and gasps of breath. Miss Way’s voice went higher than usual as she began to cry out. Leighton’s left hand came to rest over his right, an act which didn’t change much for me, only making the darkness that I was seeing a little darker. But I appreciated the gesture. I sure as hell didn’t want to see some rule breaking, seventeen-year-old, vampire witch get it on with the boy who she seems to have quite possibly brainwashed, due to his massive personality change.  
“Oh shit,” Leighton murmured. “It’s Dumbledore.” The students weren’t the only ones who had gone through drastic changes recently. The headmaster had too. He angers quickly now. The moment he enters the room, we all fall silent, if only to hide and not risk inducing rage in the old man.   
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!?!” Dumbledore's roar could no doubt be heard back at the castle.  
Blythe B. Preparing the Brain Bleach


	5. Chapter 5

Dear Diary, we meet again, for the final time tonight,  
For the third time tonight, I’m writing to you. I took a large break out of sheer frustration.  
But now I have returned to tell you about the final series of events that occurred.  
After Leighton and I nearly had to witness a pair of seventeen-year-olds jumping each other in the woods, we followed Dumbledore and the pair towards the castle, with the old man spewing insults the whole while.  
“You ludacris fools!” the man shouted, and blood began to drip from Miss Way’s face. That didn’t seem right. Crying actual tears of blood seemed like it might be indicative of something being wrong. And having done some research since then, Miss Way either has an infection of some sort in her eye with has caused the fragile tissue to be damaged, or she suffers from Haemolacria, which can be symptom of multiple diseases, including a tumor in her tear duct. So that could be a problem.  
Miss Way’s boy toy wrapped her in a comforting embrace as they were lead to the headmaster’s office. At the gargoyles, Leighton and I hid around a corner, ears strained to her the password.  
Dumbledore.  
The password was Dumbledore.  
How was that a secure password at all.  
So it wasn’t that hard for Leighton and I to sneak up afterwards. I feel like now is the time to mention that while I may be a badger, the hat did consider making me a snake. Guess my loyalty won over my cunning.  
“They were having sexual intercourse in the forbidden forest,” I heard Dumbledore declare. Leighton paused on the stairs in front of me, turning to mouth silent words at me.  
I think McGonagall and Snape are there. You good to just eavesdrop?  
I gave him a thumbs up in response.  
“Why did you do such a thing, you mediocre dunces?” McGonagall asked. I had never heard her so angry before, but then again, Miss Way and her Thralls were bound to get on anyones nerves after a while.  
“How dare you?” Snape questioned. There was a pause, long, silent and dramatic, before anyone else spoke.  
“BECAUSE I LOVE HER!” Miss Way’s boy toy cried, loud enough that both Leighton and covered our ears. Love her? He didn’t love her. What they had wasn’t love. It was infatuation and obsession. Draco Malfoy had changed. He was a sick little lovesick puppy, dependent on Miss Way’s confirmations of love. He bore no resemblance to the elitist Malfoy of years past, till the only thing that remained the same was his house and his name.   
The tower was silent.  
“Fine, very well,” Snape began. Was the confrontation over all ready. I quickly turned around, and began to speed down the stairs, light on my feet. I could hear Leighton following behind me, his footsteps louder. His skills didn’t lie in his coordination or dexterity, and normally that was fine, but right then, I was worried that this might be what go Leighton and I caught.  
We reached the bottom and ducked into a dark alcove, pressed up against the wall as we watched Miss Way and her boy toy head towards the dungeons where the Slytherin common rooms and dormitories were housed.  
Blythe B. Baffled at this “Romance” and “Love”


	6. Chapter 6

Dear Diary,  
This morning started normally. And by normally, I mean that the subject of my observations, the center of all the weird and wrong and just not right that’s occurring here at school, was eating bowl of Count Chocula with blood instead of milk, a combination which I’m sure is one of the few things that could ruin cereal. Because chocolate and iron are such a good mix. She also appeared to be chugging a glass of blood. The Count Chocula thing irked me, partially because I was pretty sure that it was an American brand and much like Hot Topic wasn’t available in any country except for America.  
A shout of “BASTARD!” drew me out of my own thoughts, and I looked over at Miss Way. Her front was drenched in blood and Harry Potter stood behind her. Or Vampire Potter, I suppose, seeing as he decided to change his name and move houses, becoming a goth vampire. I rolled my eyes as Miss Way attempted to both disrobe and mount the poor both with only her eyes.  
“I’m sorry,” Potter apologized, and I could see Miss Way practically cream her pants at the sound of his voice. What was so special about it? He spoke like everybody else. Though I suppose that to Miss Way, who seemed to be under the delusion that Hogwarts was in America, the accents that most of us had were enough to cause a heart attack.   
How long had Miss Way been going here?  
No matter how long I wracked my brain, searching for an answer, I just couldn’t find it. She was a mystery. When had she appeared ? How long had she been here? The longer I thought, the foggier my brain became and the more muddled my thoughts.  
“Is this how flirting works nowadays?” Harper remarked, slightly disgusted.   
“My name’s Harry Potter, although most people call me Vampire these days.  
“This isn’t flirting, Harp, this is a trainwreck,” Darcy countered, “it’s so bad that you can’t look away.”  
“How does Miss Way not know who Potter is? Aren’t they in the same house? Plus he’s ‘the boy who lived’?” I asked.  
“I don’t think little miss Goth-Vampire knows where Hogwarts is,” Harper pointed out.  
“Why?” Miss Way asked  
“Because I love the taste of human blood,” Potter answered with a slight giggle. Beside me I could see Darcy pretending to throw up, as Harper sighed, letting his head fall to the table. Leighton looked up from his book and shook his head in disappointment.  
“First she’s shagging her boy toy in the forbidden forest and now she’s trying to jump Potter’s bones,” he remarked.  
“Oh god, don’t remind me,” Darcy whined.  
“Well, I am a Vampire,” Miss Way told Potter, proudly as if this made her special or better. Or as if it was a confession of something that was actually secret. Which her being a vampire was far from. Everyone in the school knew it. Literally everyone. Even the first years, who sat at the other end of the table knew that Miss Way was a vampire, she rubbed it in everyone’s face. Speaking of which, when had Potter become a vampire? When was the transition?  
“Really?” Potter asked quietly, to which Miss Way’s response was to shriek.  
“Yeah!” The vampire boy sat next to Miss Way and continued to talk with her, thankfully at a consistent volume.   
Then Miss Way’s boy toy appeared and the two of them wandered back to the Slytherin dorms. She waved to Potter, who waved back, looking as if someone had just kicked a puppy in front of him.  
Blythe B. Still Confused as to Why Potter is now Vampire


	7. Chapter 7

Hello Again, Diary,  
This is the second out of probably four or five entries for today. This one is probably just gonna cover class this morning and probably the very start of the drama.   
This morning we had Potions, a class we shared with the Slytherins. Neither Miss Way nor her boy toy were there, a fact which had Leighton leaning over to whisper to me.  
“A galleon on them skipping class to shag,” he proposed.  
“Sorry, Leigh, I would take you up on that, but we both know that it’s true,” I told him.  
“You’re right,” he agreed before grabbing a square of parchment and starting to write on it.  
Two galleons on Way and Malfoy skipping class to shag  
-L&B  
He folded the paper up, before moving his hand enough to knock his quill of the table. Both him and Catherine, one of our fellow badgers bent down to retrieve the quill in a practiced move. In the small, awkward fumble, Leighton passed the note.   
The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had long since figured out methods for passing notes in all the classes and had morphed it from in-class gossip to under-the-table gambling and bartering.  
Catherine sat back up and unfolded the note. She looked between it and at the instructions she had, before scratchily underlining the word clockwise on her parchment. There was a code for every class, and in potions, agreeing to a bet was clockwise, and disagreeing or offering an alternate was counterclockwise.  
A few tables in front of us sat Potter, dejectedly trailing his quill over his parchment as class went on. It was a dreadfully boring class. Well, it was boring until a certain someone came bursting in, kicking the door open, and stomping in. Her hair was a mess and her makeup was smeared.   
Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Catherine toss two coins towards Leighton, who caught them, only fumbling slightly.  
“VAMPIRE POTTER, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!” she screeched, eyes alight with the fury of a woman scorned. Potter looked taken aback and rightfully afraid.   
Blythe B. Confused as to Why Soap Opera Level Drama and Affairs be Going Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is hard to pull a chapter of decent length out of some of these chapters.  
> Soon, in only a few chapters, this story takes a sharp left turn into what-the-fuck land


	8. Chapter 8

Alright, Diary,  
So here’s what went down.  
After Miss Way stormed into the room, we all watched her, taken aback slightly by the appearance of the girl. We stared at her, she glared at Potter, and Potter shrunk back in on himself.  
“Ebony, it’s not what you think.” Every head in the classroom turned to look towards Miss Way’s boy toy, who had entered the room shortly after her. He was standing in the doorway, stark naked, and breathing hard as if he had run through the hallways of the school.   
“Dear god,” Catherine remarked, voice laced with horror. Leighton reached over to cover my eyes once more.  
“You don’t need to see that Bits,” he told me.  
“Seriously Blythe, that thing is a telephone pole and it scares me. Leighton’s right, you don’t need to see this.”  
“What is it you desire, you ridiculous dimwit?” Snape asked, and I could hear the sneer in his voice. Why did he say that? Why use the word desire there? What is it you desire, Snape had asked. Why not just ask what the two of them want, or why they're here? And why was Miss Way here? She had already made it clear that she wasn’t coming to class? Her being gone for the first forty-five minutes of the class showed that. So what reason did she have for storming into class in the last few minutes?  
“Vampire, I can’t believe you cheated on me with Draco!” Miss Way accused. Every person in the room turned to her, confusion painted on their faces, and Leighton’s hands fell from my eyes.   
“Who?” Catherine asked.  
“Potter,” I answered, “but I thought her and were Malfoy were a thing, so why’s she accusing Potter of cheating on her?”  
“I think she meant that her boy toy was cheating on her with Potter?” Leighton told me, sounding unsure.  
“But I’m not going out with Draco anymore!” Vampire cried in an attempt to defend himself.  
“Yeah, fucking right! Fuck off, you bastard!” Miss Way shrieked before running off. I stood up and walked to the front of the room.  
“Excuse me, Professor, could I go after her, see if Way’s alright and possibly take her to the nurse?” I asked. He nodded and I went to go put away notebook.  
“Do tell me what happens on your end,” I told Leighton as I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked out of the room. I could see the red ends of Miss Way’s hair as she turned around a corner and headed through the hallways.  
I followed her as she ran to the forbidden forest, walking behind her the whole way. I doubt she saw me. But I wasn’t about to let her go into the forbidden forest by herself in a vulnerable state. She could get hurt. And as much as I don’t like Miss Way, I don’t want her to die either.  
Blythe B. Scarred for Life because Miss Way’s Boy Toy is Naked and there are Sordid Affairs


	9. Chapter 9

Dear Diary,  
It hadn’t even reached lunch and I had met Voldemort. Well, I hadn’t met him really, but I saw him threatening Miss Way. I saw him hand her the gun. I saw him tell her to kill Potter.  
Miss Way had been crying against a tree, and I had gone to step up to possibly go walk her back to school when I saw the man fly in on a broom. His skin was gray and listless. His nose flat and slit. I saw his face and I knew instantly that it was Voldemort.  
“No,” Miss Way cried out in fear, pressing herself further back against the tree. She began to run away.  
“Imperius!” Miss Way turned and pointed her wand.  
“Crookshanks,” she shouted and I froze. Crookshanks wasn’t a spell the last time I checked. It was the name of a cat. So that didn’t explain why Voldemort fell off his broom as if he had been struck by a Cruciatus Curse. He screamed in pain until Miss Way lowered her wand. Voldemort pulled himself up to standing,  
“Ebony, thou must kill Vampire Potter,” he told her. Why was he speaking in archaic English? And why was he here in the forbidden forest?  
“No, Voldemort,” Miss Way cried out, looking rather faint. Voldemort stepped closer and placed a gun in her hand. Why the hell did he have a gun? Why? And why give the gun to Miss Way? If Voldemort was already on school grounds, which he was, what was stopping him from just walking into the school and shooting Potter himself? “No, please,” she begged, as she held the gun. This would have been the perfect time to just shoot Voldemort. But apparently, this was the time for Miss Way to just stand.  
“Thou must,” Voldemort yelled, “if thou does not, then I shall kill thy beloved Draco!” Why was Voldemort so invested in Miss Way’s relationship? Why was he using it as blackmail to kill Potter instead of just doing it herself?  
“How did you know?” Miss Way asked as if her relationship with her boy toy was anything close to a secret. Everyone in Hogwarts knew. Most likely everyone in all of wizarding Britain knew about their relationship.  
“I hath telekinesis,” Voldemort snarled, “and if you doth not kill Vampire, then thou know what will happen to Draco.” Voldemort then flew away. I cocked my head, confused. Did Voldemort mean occlumency? And why was he using terrible archaic English? What reason was there behind that? Voldemort couldn’t be that old?  
Then Miss Way’s boy toy ran into the forest, fully dressed and with a full face of goth makeup, eyeliner included. A fact which told me that when Miss Way ran into the woods, he had gone back to his dorm room, put on clothes, applied makeup and then came to the woods. I slinked further behind a tree. I felt bad for not stepping up to do anything when Voldemort showed up, but there was a reason I wasn't put in the house of Lions. I’m not confrontational.  
“Draco, hi,” she breathed.  
“Hi,” he said in return.  
“Are you okay?” Miss Way asked. This wasn’t how normal conversations went. Why was this my life? Why did I follow her into the woods? Again.  
“No,” he answered.  
“I’m sorry I got all mad at you but I thought you cheated on me,” she explained. No shit Sherlock. Everyone knew that.   
“That’s okay,” Draco told her and the two of them began to walk back to the school, sucking face the entire way. I waited for them to get a substantial distance ahead of me before I began to follow, miming vomiting as I did so.  
Blythe B. Annoyed at Voldemort's Rubbish Grammar


	10. Chapter 10

Dear Diary,  
After the whole Voldemort incident, I spent the rest of the morning with Harper, Darcy, and Leighton, contemplating just dropping out of wizard school. After all, nothing of value is actually taught at this school. It would be so easy to just rob the library of useful books, go to a normal high school, and just homeschool myself for wizard stuff. We sat in an empty classroom, books open, and wands out.  
“Ugghh,” Darcy groaned, “quills are stupid.”  
“Give in, Darcy, join Bits and I. Use a pen,” Harper suggested, pointing at her with his fountain pen. I looked up, the cap of my pen in my mouth. If we used pen’s it looked closer to quill and ink, but there was no way that Harp and I were taking the step back to quills. I had spent all of my life in modern society. Harper was a half-blood, so while he knew how to effectively use a quill, he also knew what it was like to use a pen. And with his love for astronomy, Harper had also had a few packs of graph paper stashed away. It made things easier.  
However, what didn’t make studying easier was the sound of badly plaid guitar echoing through the halls. God, it was insufferable. Every damn week, it echoed through the halls, guitar, and drums, bass and amped up vocals.   
This afternoon, though, the only sounds were fragmented jumbles of guitar floated through the halls. In a way, it managed to be more annoying than the full songs.  
“Good lord, what are they doing? The instant I finally manage to concentrate, the guitar starts up again,” Leighton whined. “And how do they have the electricity needed to power those fucking amps, but we don’t get to have a light bulb, instead we get drippy, gooey, messy, low-light candles.  
It was then that the full band kicked in, no longer just guitar, and now five times as loud. I slammed my head on the table. I could hear Miss Way singing one of the American songs that she loved so much.   
They kept going.  
On and on.  
I stood up. “I’m going over there. I can’t work with this. It’s giving me a headache.”  
“I’m coming with you,” Darcy slammed down her quill, the inkwell in front of her shaking.  
“Let’s just go,” Leighton agreed as both he and Harper stood.  
The four of us began to walk, fueled by the rage of an interrupted study session. We were almost at the empty classroom that they were occupying when the song finished and Miss Way’s amplified sobs echoed.  
“What the fuck do you think?” Miss Way shouted as an answer to an unheard question, “Well, Voldemort came and the fucking bastard told me to fucking kill Harry! But I don’t want to kill him, because, he’s really nice, even if he did go out with Draco. But if I don’t kill Harry, then Voldemort will fucking kill Draco!”  
“Why didn’t you fucking tell me!” her boy toy shouted, “How could you-you-you fucking poser muggle bitch!” The four of us paused as he ran out of the classroom, tears streaming down his cheeks.  
Blythe B. Confused as to Why There’s a Band at our School


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the story officially careens into what-the-fuck land

Dear Diary,  
Oh god.  
Oh god.  
Jesus fucking Christ.   
I  
I’m gonna try my best to tell you what happened, but even I’m not sure.  
Not very long after Miss Way’s boy toy ran out of the classroom they were practicing in, maybe only an hour later, Dumbledore stormed in and informed the others that Malfoy was dead.   
I don’t know if I believe Dumbledore. I mean, Malfoy was a vampire. They can’t just up and die.  
After that, Harper, Leighton, Darcy and I decided to take a walk outside, clear our minds. However, that was a short-lived idea.   
We had been walking for a few minutes, jackets wrapped tight around us to protect from the wind when we saw the two figures floating on broomsticks. At that moment I remembered how Voldemort had arrived earlier, and I pulled my friends to the side, into the shadow up against the wall of the school.  
“Is that Snape? And Lupin?” Darcy asked. I squinted up at the two figures. It looked like Snape was holding a camera, though I couldn’t figure out why. Lupin was, he was doing something I would much rather not think about. Ever. Never think of it again. But it wasn’t long before things changed.  
“EW, YOU FUCKING PERVS, STOP LOOKING AT ME NAKED! ARE YOU PEDOS OR WHAT?” I heard Miss Way shriek before I heard what sounded like fireworks at the time. It wasn’t long before that idea was proven.  
A bullet tore through Snape, blood flying with such velocity that some landed on my cheek. Then another bullet punched a hole in Loopin. And another. Bullets kept firing. One after another. Blood was dripping onto the ground in front of us. The two screamed, falling to the earth in front of us. I could hear a crack as Snape landed. The snap of bone echoed in my ears. They lay still on the grass. I reached up to wipe the blood from my face, then I looked back to them.  
I rushed forwards.  
For a moment I paused, two steps away from them, standing in blood. Miss Way had shrieked the fact that they had been peeping on her, but they didn’t deserve to die. And yet, I was still so hesitant to get near them.  
But I had to.   
No one else would.  
So I ran up to the bullet-ridden and bleeding form of our teachers.  
“Hey, Darcy?” I asked.  
“...yeah…” she answered, voice barely there.  
“You got any tampons?” I didn’t know what I was saying. I wasn’t in control of my own body. It moved. “I need to plug the bullet wounds, otherwise we’re gonna be standing in front of some corpses.” Darcy jolted into action, reaching into her satchel. I kneeled down between Snape and Lupin as she tossed the cotton items.  
“What the hell are you doing, Bitsy?” Leighton asked.  
“I don’t know, Leigh. I remember reading about it once. It’s not ideal, but, you know, look,” I stuttered over the words, tearing fabric in order to get access to the wounds, hands turning red in a heartbeat.  
“Everyone, we need to talk.” I looked up. Hagrid stood there, in the cold air, ignoring the two teachers on the grass and instead looking up at the window from which Miss Way’s shriek had originated.  
“What do you know, Hagrid? You’re just a little Hogwarts student,” Snape asked, spitting blood onto my face as he coughed.  
“I MAY BE A HOGWARTS STUDENT,” Hagrid declared loudly, both to Snape and to the window from which Miss Way, Potter, and Dumbledore were looking. “BUT I AM ALSO A SATANIST!”  
Oh god, they weren’t going to do anything.  
“This cannot be,” Snape told him. I glared at him for a moment before returning to my attempt to staunch the blood flow as I attempted not to hurl. “There must be other factors.”  
“YOU DON’T HAVE ANY!” Miss Way screeched from her window. Beside me, I could see Lupin raise the camera in his hands.  
“The lens may be ruined but the tape is still there!” he cried. “Why are you doing this?” he then asked Hagrid. I took the opportunity to backhandedly slap the camera out of his hands.  
“BECAUSE…BECAUSE….” Hagrid began, waving his wand in the air as he stepped onto his broom, and flew up to the window, singing some song as he did so.  
“Because you’re gothic?” Snape asked hesitantly, gargling blood.  
“Because I LOVE HER!” Hagrid finished.  
Blythe B. Overwhelmed and Traumatized, There was a Shooting, Our Teachers are Perverts, Though the Age of Consent is Sixteen so They’re Not Pedophiles, but Still, Oh My God, I Need a Break


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually over a thousand words long, I am so proud. For some of these chapters I have very little to work off of, but some of them are gold mines
> 
> Also thanks to everyone who has given kudos. This is something I started writing for fun, and after writing the first seven chapters decided to put on here, so it's nice to know that people are enjoying it

Dear Diary,  
I was still patching up bullet wounds, desperately trying to get Snape and Lupin to the point where they could be transferred to a hospital and the hell out of our school.   
“NO!” someone cried. I looked towards the window from where it emanated. It had sounded like Potter. “OMFG! NOOOOO! MY SCAR HURTS!”  
“How did you know?” I heard Miss Way ask, her voice carrying in the dead silence of the night. The only other sounds were the labored breathing of Snape and Lupin as well as the shaky breaths that my friends took and my own heartbeat pounding in my chest.  
“I saw it! And my scar turned back into the lightning bolt!” Potter replied. What the hell were they talking about?   
Harper crouched down next to me, hyperventilating slightly.  
“What do you need me to do, Bitsy?” he asked. I knew that the three of them had frozen with the gunshots, and I didn’t blame them. Not one bit. The fact that all of them were still here, that I wasn’t alone in the cold, covered in blood, was enough for me.  
“NO! I thought you didn’t have a scar anymore!” Miss Way exclaimed, her voice loud and strong.  
“I do, but Diablo changed it into a pentagram for me and I always cover it up with foundation,” Potter told her, “anyway my scar hurt and it turned back into the lightning bolt? Save me? Then I had a vision of what was happening to Draco.” The boy paused to take a breath before continuing, “Voldemort has him bondage!”  
“Harp,” I addressed, ignoring everything else save for the task at hand, “I need you three to get to the nurse’s office. She needs to know everything. We need a way to move them without jostling anything. Plus she needs to be informed of these two’s behavior. I trust her more than I trust Dumbledore.”  
“Got it,” Harper replied.   
“Are you sure you’re good? You’re gonna be fine being alone?” Darcy asked.  
“Yeah, I’m good. Go!”  
I waited in the night for a while, the minutes passing painfully slowly. The only thing that kept my hands warm was the heat of the blood that coated it.   
Minute after minute.

Leighton and Harper took care of moving the board that Snape had been moved onto. Darcy and I moved the board that carried Lupin, as the nurse watched over, running diagnostic spells, preparing for what she would need to do.  
Madam Pomfrey fixed up the bullet wounds rather quickly, and once she had done so, she sat me down, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders as she congratulated and thanked me for my actions. I sat there as everything moved around me. 

At some point, while I was eating a chocolate bar, Miss Way came is, wrists wrapped in fresh blood stained bandages. Hagrid came in, a bouquet of roses in hand.  
“Enoby, I need to tell you something,” he told her.   
“Did he just say Enoby?” Darcy asked from where she was sat next to me.  
“Fuck off,” she growled, “you know I fucking hate the color pink anyway, and I don’t like fucked up preps like you.”  
“No, Enoby-”  
“He’s definitely calling her Enoby,” Leighton agreed.  
“Those are not roses,” Hagrid continued.  
“What, are they goths too, you proser prep?” Miss Way asked, and I could hear Harper give a slight snort.  
“I saved your life,” Hagrid told her.  
“No, you didn’t. You saved me from getting a Paris Hilton p-video made from you shower scene and getting viewed by Snape and Lupin,” she retorted. Who the hell is Paris Hilton?   
“And these aren’t roses. Well If you wanted Honesty that’s all you haD TO SAY!” Hagrid pointed his wand at the roses.  
“That’s not a spell that’s an MCR song.”  
“I know, I was just warming up my vocal cords,” then he screamed. “Petulus merengo mi kremicli romacioimo noto okayo!”   
That was not a spell. There was no way that that was a real spell.  
But then the roses burst into a plume of black flames.  
“Ok, I believe you, now WTF is Draco?” Miss Way asked as if Hagrid would have any idea where her boy toy was. Although to be fair, he was there when Potter had his vision. All of them were. Miss Way should know already where her boy toy is. With Voldemort.  
“You see, Enobby,” Dumbledore interjected. Why the hell were they calling her Enoby or Enobby? “To see what is in the flames, you must find yourself first, kay?” It was an oddly spiritual thing to say, and all that it implied was that the flames had some sort of future telling or scrying ability.  
“I HAVE FOUND MYSELF, OK, YOU MEAN OLD MAN!” Hagrid yelled, to the shock of Dumbledore. Or at least it looked like shock, even though I don’t know why that would be the primary response. “You are a liar, Prof Dumbledore!” And what was with the shortening of the word Professor, was it so hard to say?   
Fifteen minutes later Miss Way left the room. I waited a little longer, answering some questions for Madam Pomfrey about the whole situation.  
All in all, it was about an hour later when I left the hospital wing to go to Care of Magical Creatures.

Care of Magical Creatures was a welcome break from the hassle of everything that had happened this morning and afternoon. Hell, it was only afternoon, not even evening yet, just after lunch, and all of this had happened. The class was badgers and snakes, so it was only Leighton and I, rather than all four of us.  
Potter, in a rather dick-ish move, had grabbed Leighton towards the beginning of class and punctured his neck with his fangs. It was a routine enough event, no matter how much I hated how routine it was, and I knew that the best thing was just to wait until the vampire stopped feeding and then try to immediately stop the blood flow. God, I was doing a lot of that lately.  
Twenty minutes into the class, Miss Way showed up wearing a ridiculous leather mini-dress rather than her uniform, even in the harsh cold.  
“You look kawaii, girl,” Smith ne Granger, who now goes by B’loody Mary, even if it is absolutely ridiculous.  
“Fangs, you do too,” Miss Way told her before she locked eyes with Potter. In a moment, Leighton was dropped to the ground as Miss Way pounced on Potter and began to grind against him. I rushed to Leighton, handkerchief already pressed against the wound.  
“STOP IT NOW, YOU HORNY SIMPLETONS,” Professor McGonagall ordered.  
“Vampire, you fucker,” Miss Way said, slapping Potter across the face, “stop trying to screw me. You know I loved Draco!” She did know that she was the one to instigate, right? It was right as she began to run away, in typical Miss Way fashion that Potter yelled.  
“OMFG! NOOOOO! MY SCAR HURTS!” he shouted, and at that moment, all that I could recall was standing over two bleeding bodies as the same words were spoken.  
Miss Way turned to run back with a shout of, “NO! I thought you didn’t have a scar anymore!”  
It was deja vu on a whole other level. It wasn’t just a feeling. I knew the words that had been spoken. I knew it.  
“I do but Diabolo changed it into a pentagram for me and I always cover it up with foundation. Anyway, my scar hurt and then I had a vision of what was happening to Draco… Voldemort has him bondage!”  
Am I fucking concussed?  
Blythe B. Possibly Concussed Unless Potter has the Same Vision Twice


	13. Chapter 13

Dear Diary  
I told McGonagall that I was taking Leighton to the Hospital wing. Which wasn’t one hundred percent true. Instead, I slapped a large bandaid over his neck and we met up with Harper and Darcy. It wasn’t long before Miss Way and Potter ran past us through the halls, shouting Dumbledore’s name as they ran.  
“Dumbledore, Dumblydore!”  
It was then that Dumbledore appeared at the end of the hallway. “What is it that you want now, you despicable snobs?”  
“Voldemort has Draco,” both of them shouted at the headmaster, who then began to cackle.  
“No! Don’t! We need to save Draco!” they begged. What the hell was going on? Why were Miss Way and Potter speaking in perfect unison? The cadence, the volume, the way that they said every word. Perfectly in sync.  
“No!” he told them, cackle still in his voice.   
The four of us, looking over that them, confusion etched on every one of our faces.  
“We’re in a horror movie,” Harper told us, voice quiet so as not to interrupt the event.  
“No,” Dumbledore repeated, “I don’t give a darn what Voldemort does to Draco. Not after how much he misbehaved in school, especially with YOU, Ebony.”  
Dumbledore was still the headmaster, right? Why the hell was he so ready to let a student die at the hands of the most heinous villain of our time. “Besides I never liked him that much anyway.” This was not the way that anyone working at a school with children should be acting.  
Potter burst into tears, falling to his knees as tears ran down his face. “My Draco,” he lamented as Dumbledore turned around and began to watch.  
“It’s okay,” Miss Way told him, as blood began to pour down his face. Good lord, him too. Did every damn vampire bleed from their eyes?  
There was a moment of silence before Potter hopped to his feet. “I had an idea!”  
“What?” Miss Way asked. I could hear Darcy ask the same question to my left.  
“You’ll see,” Potter told her before waving his wand in a dramatic fashion.   
The world spun and all of us were standing in what was clearly a villains lair.  
“Allah Kedavra,” someone shouted.  
Blythe B. Really Confused about the Portkey-esque Spellwork, and Why it Took Us Too


	14. Chapter 14

Dear Diary,  
Wormtail was there. There was no trace of Voldemort anymore. It had sounded like Voldemort had been the one who cast the messed up version of the killing curse, and yet it was Cedric’s killer who stood there now. Miss Way’s boy toy was there, blood trailing down his face, crimson tears.   
Miss Way and Potter ran towards the mad man.  
“Rid my sight of you despicable preps!” Wormtail shouted. What was with this school and goths and preps? Why was ‘preps’ such a frequently used insult? And where did Miss Way get the gun from? Because she had one in her hands and the sounds of gunshots were echoing in the room. A few passed and then in a split second, Wormtail’s posture changed. The teenager, why was he a teenager, I don’t remember him being a teenager, looked at Miss Way as if she had hung the moon and every star in the sky. “EbonyIloveyouwiluhavesexwithme?”  
“Huh?”  
“Enoby, I love you will you have sex with me?” What was with all the sex. Wormtail didn’t look any older than Harper or Leighton.  
“What the fuck? You torture my BF and then you expect me to fuck you? God, you are so fucked up you fucking bastard,” she growled, before surging forwards, stabbing something into Wormtail’s chest, gun clattering to the floor as blood began to ooze and spurt onto the vampire. Blood began to trail it’s way across the floor, towards out feet.  
“Nooooooooooooo!” Wormtail screamed, freeing himself before running around like a headless chicken before he fell down in front of the four of us, blood splattering onto our fronts.  
Miss Way began to cry.  
“Snaketail, what art thou doing?” someone asked from out of sight, and the clicking sound of high heels echoing as Voldemort approached. Why did he call Wormtail Snaketail? Potter, Miss Way, and her boy toy grabbed a broom from where it was leaning against a wall and began to fly away.  
“I don’t wanna see if Voldemort is the one coming,” Darcy said, walking over to where two other brooms were.   
I took a quick detour to pick the gun off the ground, using my sleeve as a makeshift glove in order to avoid getting fingerprints on it.

Darcy and I took one broom, Harper and Leighton the other. The ride itself was quiet, as the blood dried on our clothes.  
We walked through the school, Leighton and I walking in the dungeons heading towards our dorms when we heard Miss Way’s voice echoing from the direction of their dorms.  
“It’s so unfair!Why can’t I just be ugly or plain like all da other girls and preps here except for B’loody Mary, because she’s not ugly or anything.”  
“Why would you wanna be ugly? I don’t like the preps anyway. They are such fucking sluts,” I heard her boy toy answer. Didn’t know he was one for slut shaming.   
“Yeah but everyone is in love with me! Like Snape and Loopin took a video of me naked. Hagrid says he’s in love with me. Vampire likes me and now even Snaketail is in love with me! I just wanna be with you ok Draco! Why couldn’t Satan have made me less beautiful? I’m good at too many things! WHY CAN’T I JUST BE NORMAL? IT’S A FUCKING CURSE!” she screamed into the void of the dungeons.  
Blythe B. Not Impressed by Miss Way’s Shit


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about not updating for like a week, I got the flu

Dear Diary,  
I don’t understand how today is still today. Good lord. I think I’ve written nine entries for today already. This is the tenth.   
This one’s shorter.  
Thank god.  
But it’s not the last one.  
We went to biology. God, I hate that class so much.  
I don’t know why it was chosen to replace Transfiguration, and why Lupin teaches instead of McGonagall.  
Speaking of Lupin, it was a shock when I entered the class to find Lupin there, despite the fact that only earlier today he had been shot full of bullet holes and sent to Saint Mungo's. He looked me dead in the eyes as if I hadn’t seen him lying in the grass, bleeding. As if I didn’t know he liked to peep on girls. What the hell was happening? The same vision twice in one day. Voldemort showing up and then going to meet Voldemort. It felt like more time had passed than just one day. But in a way, I felt as Darcy, Leighton, Harper and I were the only ones who were walking the line of time. Lupin was suddenly free of Saint Mungo’s and he acted as if the events of a few hours prior never happened. There had already been a loop. Good lord.  
I don’t know what’s happening anymore.  
I can’t figure out how long I’ve been here.  
Miss Way came in late to Biology, as usual. She was clad in a dress that didn’t fit the uniform, as usual.  
She sat, waving her wand at a pentagram. With a swish of the wood, the crimson paint began to morph into a pitch black guitar.   
And then, right before my eyes, the guitar twisted into the shape if Miss Way’s boy toy. And there he stood, in the flesh, with a feat of magic that shouldn’t be possible.   
Summoning someone using transfiguration. Or turning yourself into a guitar, into a pentagram. Much like most everything it made almost no sense. There was no trail of logic to any of this.  
“Enoby I love you!” the teenage boy wailed, “ I d’not care what those fucker preps and posers think. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. Before I met you, I used to want to commit suicide all the time. Now, I just fucking wanna be with you. I fucking love you.” He then began to sing some song, one that was presumably written by one of the American bands that Miss Way loved.  
“OMFG,” she shrieked the moment that he stopped singing, before flipping off the rest of the class. “I love you,” she told her boy toy before the two began to make out.  
Lupin went to shout at them to stop as the two began to walk away, but the two of them simply left as if they had the full fo support of everyone in the class, the school, and the world.

In another exhausting note, there’s another one of those concerts tonight. MCR. My Chemical Romance. An American Band, hosting a concert in a small town in Scotland. What the fuck?

Blythe B. Annoyed at the Prospect of Going to Another Concert


	16. Chapter 16

Dear Diary,  
It’s official.  
I’m losing my fucking mind.  
So I went to the concert, right. Gotta keep doing my research. Gotta find out why these bands keep playing here. And gotta figure out what is going here.  
The band was… whatever. I’ve already said that I’m not a fan on the genre. Classical Rock is my thing.   
So I’m there. By myself this time. I’ve got the mirror, so it’s not like I’m cut off from my friends entirely.  
Miss Way and her boy were jumping around again. And at one point they looked as if they were about to attempt a crowd-surf, which would have ended a disaster, due to the small crowd. But before they could do that, the band members peeled off their faces.   
They peeled off their faces.  
Hooked their fingers under their chins and lifted the flesh, revealing different faces underneath.  
And I recognized them.  
Or at least, I recognized the main one: Voldemort.  
I blinked.  
And all of the sudden, I was standing in the corridor just outside of the stupid “Advanced Biology” classroom.  
One second, I’m staring at the Death Eaters. The next, it’s late afternoon, I’m standing in the corridor, and Miss Way and her boy toy are in front of me.  
“WTF, Draco, I’m not going to a concert with you,” she told him sternly, “even if it’s MCR and you know how much I like them.”  
The concert hadn’t happened.  
But it had.   
I remember it.  
First, the day is too long. Far too long. And thing’s change from one hour to the next. Lupin’s arrested, but he’s still teaching class.   
And now a concert happened but it has still yet to happen.  
“What, cause we…” I heard Malfoy pause awkwardly, trying to get his meaning across to Miss Way, “yanno,” he prompted.   
Last concert, for them, was the first one.  
I think.  
The one with the trip to the forbidden forest.  
The first one.  
“Yeah, ‘cause we yanno,” she yelled.  
“We won’t do that again,” her boy toy promised before adding, with newfound vigor and confidence, “this time, we’re going with an ESCORT.”  
“OMFG, wtf, are you giving in to the mainstream?” Miss Way asked before sneering,” so I guess you’re a prep or a Christina or what now.”  
I assumed that Christina meant Christian. That was a far more Miss Way-esque accusation.  
“No,” her boy toy angrily defended himself, keeping his voice lower than hers.  
“Are you becoming a prep or what?” she shouted. Yeah. This was real. This wasn’t just some complex hallucination. This was real.  
I was in a time loop.   
I am in a time loop.   
I stood there for the next fifteen minutes, trying to process the fact that I really was in a Time Loop. That I really am in one.

The mirror in my pocket began to warm, a sign that a connection was being made. I pulled it out of my pocket. The face of the mirror fogged up before clearing, revealing Darcy’s face.  
“Where are you, Bits?” she asked, sounding a little frantic.  
“Standing in the corridor outside of bio, trying to accept the fact that I’m in a time loop somehow,” I answered numbly.  
“Well get back to your dorn, dummy, you can’t just wander the halls, it’s dangerous,” she advised me.  
“Why?”  
“Willow, that Slytherin who was friends with Way,” Darcy began.  
“Yeah, what about her?”  
“Murdered and raped.”  
I almost dropped the mirror, fumbling with the material.  
“They’re not sure who did it, but you need to get in your dorm.”  
“How did it happen?” I asked as I began to walk, peering warily around every corner.  
“She was expelled for bad grades this morning. At dinner they found her body near the biology corridor. The signs point to Lupin being the one to have done it.”   
I looked back at the hallway I had just been standing in, noting the charmed off sector just passed me. That hadn’t been there earlier. At least, not for me.  
When I had reached the common room, I was greeted by Leighton pulling me into a tight hug.  
“Hey, Leigh?” I asked.  
“What’s up, Bits? And where were you?”  
“I think I’m in a weird, kinda time loop thing. Is there a concert in Hogsmeade tonight? Because if there is, Voldemort will be there.”

Blythe B. Preparing for Groundhog's Day


	17. Chapter 17

Dear Diary,  
I relax for ten fucking minutes and everything changes.  
Willow isn’t dead anymore.  
Leighton was sure she was dead.  
She isn’t anymore.  
Darcy saw the body.  
But Willow isn’t dead now.  
First the time loop.   
Then a murder.  
Now what can only really be described as a zombie.  
And there’s still a god damned concert tonight.   
Which means that Voldemort will probably be there.  
I hate that I’m going to go, but I am. How else am I supposed to have accurate records of what happens? Apparently nothing that I haven’t seen with my own eyes can be trusted. Time can’t be trusted.

It wasn’t just Miss Way and her boy toy going this time. It was Willow, Weasely, and Longbottom as well.  
The concert started off similarly to the other one that happened tonight.  
Except this time with more hard drugs.   
I just want to see tomorrow.  
The five slytherins came in a black mercedes benz, high as a kite. Chances were that they were planning on driving back to the castle while just as high. Last time that happened, god it feels like so long ago, the drove into the forbidden forest to bone.

The music was the same as last time.

I could see the band members reach for the bottom of their masks, and through I had seen it already, the sinking of nails into the tender flesh on someone’s neck, only to lift up a face was still a horrifying sight. Underneath the false face, the Death Eaters wore their own masks, to hide their true identities.  
To be fair, with the competence of the wizarding police force, you don’t even need that. As long as you were gone when the cops showed up you were safe. There was no DNA testing, no fingerprint analysis. No nothing.   
The wizarding world was a mess.  
“You moronic idiots,” Voldemort shouted as the few people at the concert ran away. “Enoby, I told you to kill Vampire. Thou have failed. And now I shall kill thou and Draco.”  
It took all of my effort not to burst into laughter at his terrible grammar.  
I think I’m losing my mind.

Dumbledore arrived with perfect dramatic timing, his hair and beard dyed black for some reason, with the name ‘Avril Lavigne’ on his robes. I don’t know who she is, but I would bet my left kidney that the american music industry is somehow involved.

Blythe B. Preparing for Groundhog’s Day, Part Two


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, but hey, not much happens in each chapter of My Immortal

Dear Diary,  
I actually woke up today.  
Whatever time loop I’m in won’t repeat my day.  
Thank god.

Breakfast wasn’t as good. The food was as delicious as it always is, but the dining hall had clearly undergone a drastic makeover. The garish pink that had at some point sprung into existence as the wall color was coated in a thick layer of black paint. American band posters were pasted on the walls.  
At the Slytherin table, I could see Miss Way and her Thralls lamenting over the “sheer attractiveness” of these singers. Darcy rolled her eyes from where she sat with the other ravens before she mimed throwing up.  
“DUMBLEDORE!!” came the scream from the Slytherin table as the headmaster came in, wearing all black, white foundation on his face and hair dyed black.  
“WTF?” Miss Way shrieked, “I thought he was just wearing that to scare Voldemort!”  
“He’s lost his marbles completely. He’s senile. Unfit to teach,” Leighton whined, burying his face in his book.  
“Hello everyone, as you can see, I gave the room a makeover. What do you think?” Dumbledore asked, and with confusion clear on their faces, the lions began to clap. The awkwardness in the air was tangible. “Btw, you can call me Albert,” the headmaster called out as breakfast finished.  
I’m ending this here and now because class is about to start, and there is no way that I’m risking getting this confiscated.  
Blythe B. Judging the Interior Decorating Sense of our Headmaster


	19. Chapter 19

Dear Diary,  
So I may have snuck out of class.  
Alright. Not ‘may have’, I definitely snuck out of class. Not that early. Only a little early. But early enough to see if I could glean any more information about Miss Way.   
Someone mentioned that the concert had been postponed.  
Fucking postponed?  
That meant that it hadn’t happened.  
But today was tomorrow.  
I was out of this loop.  
Fuck  
Fuckity  
Fuck  
Fuck  
Why is Hogwarts like this?  
I checked with Madam Pomfrey, I don’t have a concussion.

Anyways...  
As per the usual, I found Miss Way and her boy toy standing in a hallway, arguing.  
“No one fucking understands me!” her boy toy whined.  
“Accuse me? What about me?!” Miss Way retorted harshly, and for a moment I thought she was going to punch him.  
“But-but-but,” he stuttered.  
“You fucking bastard,” Miss Way moaned as if it was the most erotic thing in the world.  
“No! Wait! It’s not what it fucking looks like!” he shouted. I don’t know what it looked like. But Miss Way had had enough and was running away, crying, as she seems to do with every single problem she faces. Hell, if she ran out of ink for her quill she would burst into tears and run to France.  
Miss Way didn’t run that far, she ran just far enough and then leaned against a wall and began to smoke what looked like marijuana, crying all the while.  
Then Hagrid appeared as if he had appeared in. But everyone knows you can’t apparate within Hogwarts. EVERYONE KNOWS THIS.  
“You gave me a fucking shock, wtf do you think you’re doing in the girl’s room?” Miss Way asked angrily.  
Dumbledore was there too, “hey, I need to ask you a question, what are you wearing to the concert?” Why is Dumbledore concerned about the fashion choices of a young lady?  
“You know who MCR are?” Miss Way, gasping out of sheer shock.  
“No, I just saw there was a concert that a lot of goths and punks were going to, anyway, Draco has a surprise for you,” Dumbledore told her. Malfoy was in the hallway too. What was happening? Why is there another concert? Why is Dumbledore going? And why is Dumbledore trying to get on the good side of the “goths” and the “punks”?  
Blythe B. Losing her Goddamn Mind


	20. Chapter 20

Dear Diary,  
After dinner, it was time for the concert. Although the story had changed, it was now a make-up concert of sorts. A re-do since the last one had been taken over by the Death Eaters. It doesn’t mean I’m not losing my mind. I think I might be losing it faster now.  
I was heading towards the great hall, walking through the dungeon corridors when Leighton’s hands slapped over my eyes at an alarming speed.  
“What the fuck, Leigh?” I asked.  
“Snape and Lupin are shagging in the hallway, Dobby's watching. I wanna throw up. I think I’ve already hurled a little.”  
“Oh my god, you ludicrous idiots,” the two men yelled.  
“Way’s here. And Dubby’s running away, crying, poor house-elf, probably traumatized,” I was grateful for Leighton’s narration, as, even if the things described weren’t things that I wanted to think about, ever, it did keep me in the loop of what was happening.  
“WTF, is that why you wanted condoms?” I could hear Miss Way ask loudly.  
“Only you wouldn’t give them to me!”  
“Well, you shoulda told me.” Miss Way seemed awful calm for the whole situation.  
“You dimwit.” I could hear the click of a shudder. “Well, excuse me, what was that all about?” the two men asked, and it was in that eerily in sync way that Miss Way and Potter had once spoken in. What was with people speaking so in sync here?  
“It was to blackmail you,” Miss Way replied. So she had been the one with the camera. Not like there was any reason to really blackmail them, they shouldn’t be teaching at the school in the first place. They had already been fired. But Miss Way continued, “so now, next time you see me doing it with my boyfriends, you can’t fucking rat me out or I’ll show this to Dumbledore. So fuck off, you bastards.”  
She only cared about herself. Her and her stupid sex life, and her idiot boyfriend, and the brain dead Thralls. I could hear the sound of Miss Way’s ridiculous shoes clicking on the stones of the floor as she ran away. Leighton waited for a while longer before he lowered his hands.  
“Sorry, I had to wait for Snape and Lupin to be gone. We’re heading to the concert right?” he asked.  
“As much as I hate it, yes.”

The night air was cold and the sky was dark, but I could see the car parked just outside the school. Great. Miss Way was still here with her boy toy. The car did look different though.  
“Oh, he’s just being a bastard, he told me he wouldn’t come. You wanna come with me to the concert?” I heard Potter ask. So it was Potter and Miss Way. Then why did he have a car? A flying one? Flying cars weren’t common. Why did two students have them? And why did the back license plate have “ENOBY” written on it?

The concert was the exact same as EVERY OTHER CONCERT I HAVE BEEN TO. There is no other way to describe it. It was empty. Those there were doing their little bouncy dance. Miss Way was making out with Potter instead of her boy toy, but that was literally the only other difference. Speaking of her boy toy, the entire time he was crying in the corner.

Blythe B. Tired of All These Goddamn Concerts


	21. Chapter 21

Dear Diary,  
Leighton, Darcy, Harper and I had a meet up after Leigh and I came back from the concert. It was nice, to hang out with them, to just let someone know about all the weird and the crazy and the impossible. It was nice to share the burden.  
We shared our timeline of events.  
And lo and behold it was different for every one of us. You already know what my timeline looks like. Leighton’s seemed the closest to mine, with abrupt changes, where loops had been. Harper’s was the smoothest timeline, but it was also the most different. His series of events was similar, fora good portion of the time, but some things that changed were completely erased for him. He didn’t remember any of the prior concerts, he doesn’t remember Snape and Lupin being shot. Darcy’s in the middle. A little muddled but with enough clarity to leave her a little confused.  
So that’s where we all stand on the basis of a timeline.   
They’re all a smidgeon different.

That being said, today was relatively normal. Nothing crazy or absurd happened. It was nice. I don’t think I ever realized how nice it is to have a completely ordinary day. I mean, I was excited to do my homework. Not that it’s every really bored me, I mean it is homework about magic. But just having the chance to get schoolwork done felt like a blessing and a dream.   
The only thing that was unusual was the announcement we received at dinner and the subsequent arrival of some guests. Those guests were from the Ministry. Cornelius Fudge, the minister, was coming. Although in the usual messed up fashion of this school, he was referred to as Cornelia Fuck. Although, despite the fact that I have been referring primarily to most of Miss Way’s Thrall’s by their last name for the sake of my own sanity, I will be referring to Cornelia Fuck as just that, purely out of spite and because I don’t trust the government. Not just the normal government, but the magical one too. I mean, magic gives you way too much of an advantage if you’re attempting to spy on your citizens.

Blythe B. Wary


	22. Chapter 22

Dear Diary,  
Some new details about this timeline were discovered this morning at breakfast. Now, I started the day with a feeling in my gut that it was going to be a long day. And not the long sort of day that most people are graced with, the weird, stretched, action-packed journey into what-the-fuck land that I always got landed with.  
Anyways, here’s how it happened.   
Let me set the scene. It’s way too early in the morning, and Leighton’s dragging me out of bed to go eat breakfast. I slept like garbage due to the non-stop gossip that had started due to the arrival of actual, literal government agents at our school. I had sat at our table, surrounded by wonderfully garish and awful faux-gothic decorations. My hair was a mess, which I have since fixed, thank god. Darcy was sitting with the Ravens and with Harper, angrily eating her own breakfast as she shot glares at Miss Way and her Thralls, as well as the staff, especially Lupin and Snape. How those two are still allowed in this school, I don’t know. But I could hear most of the glorious gossip. Today’s gossip revolved around the Weasley’s and the absolutely fucked up shit that happened in that family apparently.   
I’m going to guess that this is an alteration that occurred with the whole timeline jumble of two(?) days ago, seeing as somehow Crabbe and Goyle are or were, Weasleys.   
The wizarding world is messed up, man.   
Is this all even real? Because everything that’s happened is really weird. Like, Twilight Zone weird.   
At the staff table, Dumbledore had been eating his own breakfast when Dolores Umbridge, that vile hag who taught us two years ago, stormed in with Minister Cornelia Fuck.  
“THIS CANNOT BE!” The pink-clad toad of a woman yelled, her face turning a blotchy shade of red, “THE SCHOOL MUST BE CLOSED!”  
“THE BARK LORD IS PLANNING TO KILL THE STUDENTS!” Cornelia Fuck yelled. And I mean, there’s no surprise in that statement. The dark lord has been trying to kill us all for like thirty years. The bark lord, though, I don’t know. He’s a wild card.   
“YOU ARE NOT FIT TO BE THE PRINCIPAL ANY LONGER! YOU ARE TOO OLD AND YOUR ALZHEIMER'S IS DANGEROUS! YOU MUST RETRY OR VOLDEMORT WILL KILL YOUR STUDENTS!” Umbridge added. I’m pretty sure she meant retire, but whatever. At this rate, I’m learning more about magic from the portraits in the hall than actual adult wizards.   
“Very well.” Dumbledore countered, “but we cannot do this. We can’t close the school. There is only one person who is capable of killing Voldemort and she is in the school. And her name is Enony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way.”  
I could hear the gasps of the Miss Way’s Thralls from across the room but all I could do was slam my head against the table as hard as a teenage girl could, hoping that if I got injured enough I could just go to hospital wing and wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that the one person who this entire conspiracy thing revolves around, is also destined to defeat Wizard Hitler. Great.  
Just great.  
Blythe B. Waiting for the Sweet Release of Death


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating this in quite a while

Dear Diary,  
Umbridge and Cornelia Fuck stormed out of the room before pausing in the hallway.   
“MR. WAY, WHAT THE BEEP ARE YOU DOING!” I could hear Umbridge shout, her voice echoing through the dining hall. It was odd to hear a fully grown woman censor herself in such a silly way as she shouted, full of rage, at a teenager, who I assumed was Miss Way.  
“Oops,” Dumbledore added in, meek and unsure,” she made a mistake. She means, hi everybody, come in.”   
This was our headmaster.  
Miss Way and her Thralls came into the room only to stir up more drama. Just after the pale girl had taken her seat, her boy toy was engaged in a shouting match with the-boy-who-lived.  
“Vampire, Draco, WTF?!” I heard her ask, voice the same volume as it always was: too loud.  
“You fucking bastard,” her boy toy yelled, “I want to shit next to her!”  
Great.  
I love the sound of angsty teen drama while I’m eating my own breakfast.  
“No, I do.”  
“No, she doesn’t fucking like you, you son of a bitch.”  
“No, fuck you, motherfucker, she loves me, not you,” Potter retorted before pouncing on the blond. The sound of a fist colliding with a jaw was audible in the otherwise dead silent room.  
However, the fight was interrupted when Voldemort flew into the room through one of the windows, glass shattering and raining down upon us Badgers.   
I could hear one of the lions start crying. I don’t blame them, my first reaction was to drop to the floor in order to avoid any spells or bullets that could happen.  
“Eboby, Enoby,” the dark lord began, I looked up and his image seemed to twist and change before my eyes. The snake-faced man morphed into a character I knew well, Darth Vader. “Thou have failed your mission. Now, I shall kill thou and I shall kill Vampire as well. If thou does not kill him before then I shall kill Draco too!” the man threatened.  
“Plz don’t make me kill him, plz,” the girl in question begged.  
“No!” the Dark Lord cackled, “kill him, or I shall kill him anyway!” A moment later, he was gone. There was glass on the floor and tears streaking the faces of some of the students, and he was gone without any staff attempting to stop him. I moved slowly, brushing the glass off of my robe as I moved.  
I should have known that this was not the end.  
After all, what kind of hell hole would this be if Miss Way’s eyes didn’t roll back into her head as she collapsed, moaning out the word “no” in a tone far too sexual for the situation at hand?  
“Ebony, Ebony, are you alright?” her boy toy asked. She assured him she was fine as she stood up.  
“Everything’s alright, Enoby,” Potter told her, and the girl proceeded to shout, “No, it’s not,” at the boy, face red, blood dripping down her face once more. Any trace of emotion besides pure rage was gone, replaced by boiling rage.  
“OMFG,” she growled, “what if I’m getting possessed, like in the Ring Two!”  
“It’s okay, girl,” Granger assured her,” maybe you should ask Professor Sinister about what the visions mean, though.”  
Ah yes, because the astrology professor will know what they mean. Chances were that they meant Professor Trelawney.  
“Ok, bitch,” Miss Way told her friend/servant/thrall.  
Blythe B. Readying Herself for Another Long Ass Day


	24. Chapter 24

Dear Diary,  
I begrudgingly walked to Divination, wishing more than anything that I could just go back to the nice, cozy dorm where I could just be safe and warm and I don’t have to worry about wizarding issues.  
I dragged myself into the classroom, finding a cushion in the corner where I could sit. I think that I was still reeling myself back in from the fiasco at breakfast.  
“Konichiwa everybody, come in,” the professor greeted, and much like how Voldemort had morphed into a movie villain, I could see our divination teacher flickering between being Professor Trelawney and Professor Sinistra. They switched faces. But no matter what face our professor was wearing, she was wearing the same style of clothing that Miss Way and her Thralls wore: gothic, lace trimmed and black.  
Miss Way raised her hand with its black nails and red designs pointed in the air.  
“What is it, Ebony? Hey, I love your nail polish, where’d you get it, Hot Topic?” Professor Sinistra/Trelawney asked.  
“Yeah,” Miss Way answered, a smug grin on her face before she flipped off every other student in this class. “Well, I have to talk to you about some things. When do you want to do it?”  
“How about now,” the divination teacher suggested. We had been in class all of three minutes.  
“OK”  
“OK, class fucking dismissed everyone,” she waved her hand, dismissing the rest of us. All of us stood up, slinging our bags over our shoulders, grumbling the whole time.  
“Well that was a waste of time,” Leighton remarked. “Less than five minutes of class and none of it was useful in the slightest. I grabbed his robe and pulled him back to seating.   
“I wanna see what happens,” I told him.  
“Except you, Britney,” she pointed at the blond girl, “do exercise one on page three.” I could see the poor Gryffindor go red to her roots at the embarrassment of being called out in such a direct manner.   
“OK,” Miss Way began, “I’m having lots of visions.” Our teacher nodded, before turning to grab something off of a shelf. It was a crystal ball. But it looked different. Instead of being clear, it looked to be made of a dark gemstone. Not pure black, but dark, with a purple-ish undertone. She placed the ball in Miss Way’s hands, and the girl stared into it. I could see something inside the ball, etched in a bright snow color, like a white pencil sketching on black paper.  
“What do you see?” the divination Professor prompted, sounding extremely excited about the prospect of one of her students being able to see the future, though I’m not really sure why. Visions seem almost commonplace, with the number of them that have happened in the last few days.  
“I said I see a black gothic skull and a pentagram,” Miss Way told her, voice snappish and irritated.  
A knock at the door interrupted them, and they both turned to see Miss Way’s boy toy standing in the doorway.  
“Okay, you can go now, see ya, cunt,” the professor dismissed. Unprofessional didn’t even start to cover it. Geez. What is up with this school.  
“Bye, bitch,” Miss Way said as her own version of a Good-Bye, walking out the door, to both Potter and her boy toy.  
A minute or so after the two left, Leighton and I got up, the Professor didn’t seem to notice us as we let, turning into a walking husk.  
“We following them?” Leighton asked.  
“Duh. But we do need to let Darce and Harper know, can’t keep them out of the loop. That’s just cruel.” I told him, pulling out the small mirror, fogging it up with my breath and then writing Darcy’s name on it.   
The call was quick. After all, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary now, to go follow Miss Way, and see what she’s up to.  
Blythe B. Confused by the Inconsistent Faces of our Teacher


	25. Chapter 25

Dear Diary,  
Leighton walked in front of me as the two of us followed Miss Way and her boy toy. And honestly, we should have expected that the two were headed straight towards the forbidden forest, which for some reason seemed to be their favorite place to go.   
I don’t know why.  
We all know that it’s got man-eating spiders and that the centaurs prefer that no humans enter it.  
Hell, it’s got forbidden in its name.  
The only people stupid enough to go into the forest are those who’ve been warped by whatever reality altering abilities that Miss Way has.   
And Harper, Leighton, Darcy and I.  
We never said we made good decisions.  
Speaking of my friends, Darcy and Harper arrived in record time, sliding down a banister to join us.  
“Anything new?” Darcy asked me.  
“Sinistra and Trelawny are both teaching divination, they’re one person but they change faces,” I told her.  
“That’s fucking weird. Does it have anything to do with the whole Voldemort turning into someone else thing?” she asked before Harper butted in.  
“Darth Vader. He turned into Darth Vader,” he told her.  
“Ebony, what the fuck did Professor Trevolry say?” we could hear Miss Way’s boy toy ask her in a whisper. The two of them were leaning on a black car. Though why one would be parked at a MAGICAL school for WIZARDS was a mystery. I know Miss Way’s behind it, though.  
“She said she would tell me what the visions mean tomorrow,” the girl answered.  
“That’s a lie,” Leighton murmured, “they were interrupted.”  
“Leigh, shhh,” I scolded. Miss Way’s boy toy had produced a dime bag full of white power, a spoon, which he handed to Miss Way, a needle, and a lighter.  
“Fuck, I hope they’re not planning to drive,” Darcy told us.  
“They could get sick from sharing a needle, blood diseases can get transferred,” Harper added.  
“Yeah, it’s a bad fucking idea,” Darcy agreed.  
“Well, they’re getting in the car,” Leighton interrupted.  
The car came to life and lifted off the ground, where it immediately sped into a tree. The bumper crushed like an aluminum can and the car fell to the ground. But that didn’t stop its passengers, who clambered out of the car looking spacey and out of it as they got onto the vehicle’s roof, tinny radio brokenly playing some gothic song.  
The two began to make out and all four of us immediately turned out heads away. We may have been hidden from view, but they weren’t. And we knew well enough that this would most likely lead to what most people would consider a very unsatisfactory round of sex, but Miss Way considered godlike.  
We only looked back when there was a thumping sound. Miss Way had either fallen asleep or passed out.   
“Ebony, what’s wrong?” her boy toy asked a minute later when Miss Way sleepily opened her bleary eyes.  
“Call Vampire,” she told him as blood began to pour down her face.  
Blythe B. Pretty Sure Some BullShit be Going Down Soon


	26. Chapter 26

Dear Diary,  
It only took a few minutes for Potter to show up, but that was enough time for Miss Way to wipe the tears off her face.  
“Hi Vampire,” she greeted flirtatiously before continuing to cry, her boy toy wrapping his arms around her in an attempt to provide comfort.  
“Oh, fuck it, what fucking dick did that?” Potter demanded.  
“I don’t know,” Miss Way answered, “now, come on, we have to tell Dumbledore.” The trio then began to run. Darcy gave a defeated sigh.  
“Why the fuck do they run so much?” She asked. “At this rate, I’ll be able to bench press my brother by summer.”  
It didn’t take long for us to end up standing on the stairs that lead to the headmaster’s office. The door was thin and far from soundproof, so if you stood close by you could hear everything.  
“Sire, our dad’s have been shot!” we could hear Miss Way’s boy toy cry, “Enoby had a vision in a dream.”  
“Sex must have been pretty bad if Way fell asleep,” Darcy snarked.  
“Hahahahaha!! And how do you expect me to know Ebony’s not divisinional?” Dumbledore cackled. I assumed he meant delusional, but in this school who could really tell.  
“Look, Motherfucker,” Miss Way began, and she was really going there. She was swearing at the headmaster, “you know very well that I am not decisional-”  
“Of course she’s not, we’ve all seen her with Potter and Malfoy,” Harper interjected.  
“Now get some fucking people out there to look for Series and Lucian- pornto!”  
“Sirius Black? And Malfoy’s dad?” Leighton asked, “That’s what they said, right. And she did say ‘pornto’.”  
“Yup.”  
“Okay,” Dumbledore started, “where are they?”  
There was a pause, long and dramatic before Miss Way gave an answer.  
“Longdon.”  
Another moment of silence before we could hear Miss Way, her boy toy, and her boy toy approaching the hallway, a sound which had us sprinting down the stairs as fast as we could, ducking into alcoves as soon as we could so that we were just out of view. The trio ran past us and we followed them through the winding hallways towards the hospital wing where Leighton was quick to make use the water jug that was there.  
Potter waved his hand goodbye before departed, heading back in the direction of his dorms. There was only a moment, during which Miss Way and her boy toy decided to snog, before Lucius Malfoy and Sirius Black were brought into the nurse's office with our divination professor following behind them. Why were they here? This was a nurse’s office, not an actual hospital.   
Blythe B. Less Worried About the Mass Murderer than I thought I’d Be


	27. Chapter 27

Dear Diary,  
As the nurse stitched up Sirius Black and Lucius Malfoy’s wounds, Professor Sinistra rushed over to Miss Way.  
“Come on, Enoby, I have to tell you the fucking perdition.” Perdition? Did she mean premonition or was she talking about eternal damnation and utter destruction? The two walked into a room off of the hospital wing. It was dark, lit only by candles. As they walked deeper into the darkness, I followed. The two sat down, the professor pulling out a deck of cards, splaying them out on the table in front of the dark crystal ball in the center of the room. “Tara,” the professor began, voice full and dramatic, “I see dark times are near. You see, you must go back in time.” The woman drew out a necklace. It looked to be a time turner. “When Voldemint was in Hogwarts before he became powerful he gut his hearth borken. Now do you fink he would still become Volxemort if he was in love?” I watched as Miss Way shook her head. “You must go back in time and seduce him. It is the only way, if he is still evil then you must kill him. You can come to my room tomorrow and you can do it.”  
“Okay,” Miss Way put her hand on her face before she started walking back towards me. I quickly ducked back into the main area of the hospital wing.  
“What fucking happened?” her boy toy and Potter asked before Ginny Weasely, the zombie girl, Tara, and Granger spoke up in eerie harmony.  
“Yeah, what happened?”  
Before Miss Way could speak up, people surged into the hospital wing. There were reporters attempting to weasel interviews of everyone, other students there with cards, flowers, and balloons. A cake had been brought in by someone, and Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be carrying in a box of fireworks. Leighton sprung into action, quickly confiscating the fireworks as the rest of us made an attempt to get the reporters out of the room. Madame Pomfrey was still suturing a wound, why the hell did they think it was okay to ask her questions.   
During this mess, we did end up losing track of Miss Way and her boy toy.  
Blythe B. Confused About the Possible Time Travel About to go Down


End file.
